Yes'
by starryfaerie
Summary: James Potter usually accepts dares without batting an eyelash. However, this time, while he’s on a dare, he's also on a personal mission. But first, he’s anxiously waiting for Lily to turn up. What does Lily have to do with this dare? And what will she sa


**'Yes'  
**by starryfaerie

_**Summary:** James Potter usually accepts dares without batting an eyelash. However, this time, while he's on a dare, he's also on a personal mission. But first, he's anxiously waiting for Lily to turn up. What does Lily have to do with this dare? And what will she say when she finds out?_

* * *

James Potter had never been so nervous in his life.

On any usual day, anyone could dare James to climb half a dozen trees, jump into the lake, swim across the entire lake without drawing breath, fly across the Quidditch Pitch hanging from his broom by all four limbs, or even to hex a Slytherin (not that that was much of a dare) and he wouldn't bat an eyelash. He hadn't outgrown these somewhat childish instincts even after he had left Hogwarts.

On a usual day, James would coolly accept dares and perform whatever you asked him to, however ridiculous it might be. No amount of danger or detention ever deterred him from a dare because James never said no to anything that involved a risk. In fact, if something _didn't_ involve a risk, he would probably suggest adding one, just for the fun of it. On any usual day, he seemed to live off the thrill of a threat.

This day, however, was far from usual. James was steeling himself to do something that he wanted to do very much even without being dared to, though he hadn't actually done it yet. His best friend, Sirius, had taken this lack of action to be 'fear of rejection' and dared James, 'Go for it! Or are you too much of a chicken?' To which James had indignantly retorted that he wasn't and then agreed to the dare. So today, while on his date with Lily today, James would have to… Well, he didn't think he could think about it just then. His stomach was already in knots.

He had been waiting for Lily at the pub for over an hour but it wasn't because Lily was late because Lily was never late. In fact, if anyone were late, it would usually be James. James had been waiting for over an hour because he was way too nervous to think about anything else all day. In the end, all he could think of doing was going in early to wait for her. Half of him hoped Lily wouldn't turn up, but the other half really wanted her to; half of him extremely impatient for her to arrive but the other half just dreading the moment she stepped into the pub. He couldn't ignore the horrible convulsions his stomach went into every time he thought of the impending… deed.

It was four o'clock on a swelteringly hot July afternoon and James was sweating profusely, probably due to a combination of nerves and the heat. Lily had agreed to meet him at five o'clock and although it was a whole hour away, James was already experiencing an extreme case of clammy hands. The sweat glands in his palms seeme set to defy all human restrictions of how much perspiration it could produce per minute. He was continually wiping his hands on the sides of his robes but it didn't help much because minutes later they would be wet and sticky again.

When would Lily arrive? James cast an agonised glance at the clock on the wall of the pub, wishing he had something to do while waiting for the minute hand to make the last full turn before Lily walked in. He could feel the bumpy shape of the velvet-covered box in his robe pocket but he didn't want to put his hands into his pockets for fear of causing the velvet to become sickeningly damp from sweat.

Turning away from the clock, James signalled the barman. He came over at once, 'What would you like, sir?'

'One butterbeer, please.'

'Mug or bottle, sir?'

'Bottle,' James responded without thinking. He hesitated for a second, 'On second thoughts, give me an empty mug with that, would you?'

'No problem, sir,' the barman replied, setting a bottle and mug on the bar top. 'Seven sickles.'

James handed over the silver and poured butterbeer into his mug. He gulped it down without tasting anything. He tried to steady his breathing, staring fixedly at the wood grain of the bar top, willing time to pass. Half-dazed, he numbly downed another two mugs of butterbeer. When would it be time? When would it _ever_ be time?

The chink of the door opening roused him from his stupor. He realised it was already five o'clock and there was Lily, looking as pretty as ever, walking in at the door. James raised a hand in greeting and tried to smile but his face muscles seemed to be constricted. She came over to him and kissed his cheek, 'Hey, how long have you been waiting?'

'You won't want to know, really,' James answered, relieved that his voice, at least, was working properly.

'What's wrong with you?' Lily asked, knitting her brow. 'You look pale. Are you ill?'

'No,' James forced out. He took a sip of butterbeer. 'No. No, I'm fine. There's- there's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine. Don't worry.' He added, seeing the unconvinced look on her face.

'If you say so,' Lily said, still looking sceptical. 'I think you're not telling me something.'

'Yeah, all right,' James admitted. It was half-true anyway. 'I'm not. But I will tell you,' he added hastily. 'Just not… now. Not yet.'

'You sure you're not sick or something? You're acting very odd.'

'I'm fine! Stop worrying!'

'All right,' Lily answered, sounding rather resigned. She hoisted herself into the seat next to him. 'So what are you going to- _why's your hand so cold_?'

Lily had just placed her hand over James, who hurriedly pulled it away and stuffed it into his pocket. The box bumped against his fingertips.

'It's… nothing. I'm not wearing gloves.'

'James, it's the middle of summer, you don't need gloves in the first place. What's wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong,' James answered, not looking at her. 'Look, can we get away from here? Goodness knows I'm sick of this place already.'

'I've only just got here!'

'Yeah, but I've been here for almost three hours now. I told you you really wouldn't want to know how long I've been waiting,' he added, seeing her astonishment.

'What have you been doing here three hours?' Lily sputtered in shock. 'If you wanted to meet me at two o'clock you should just have said! Why on earth did you make yourself wait three hours?'

'Look, can we just get out of here first?' James repeated, standing up. 'I'll tell you once we're outside.'

'Oh, _all right_,' Lily responded in a tired voice and followed James out of the pub. Once outside, James started striding so fast down the street; Lily had to run to catch up with him.

'So what did you want to tell me?'

James didn't respond.

'Would you stop walking so fast? Where are you going in such a hurry anyway?'

'Sorry,' James said, stopping abruptly. Lily was three steps ahead of him before she realised this and turned back. 'Let's just… walk. I just want to walk. We can talk while we walk, I guess.'

'Okay,' Lily gave him a funny look. 'If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone else was impersonating you and doing a very bad job of it. You're acting like you've just had a personality transplant.'

'Sorry. I'm just…I'm a bit preoccupied today.'

'That much is obvious.'

They walked in silence for a few moments, James wiping his palms on his robes, trying to get them dry. His voice seemed stuck in his throat again, 'Lily.'

'Yeah?'

He took her hand, 'You know I love you, right?'

'Yes.'

'And you know I would do anything in the world for you, right?'

'Well, I'm not sure I've heard that one before,' Lily grinned mischievously. 'But yes.'

They had stopped walking now. There was a bench next to one of the shops nearby. James led Lily over to it and made her sit down.

'Aren't you going to sit too?'

'Yes,' said James, but he remained standing. 'Well, no. Not yet.'

The street was strangely deserted for this hour. Well, now was a better time than any. James was suddenly staring at Lily's hand with a kind of ferocious intent. He was hardly aware of what he was doing. His left hand was holding Lily's left but his other hand seemed to have a life of its own; it reached into the pocket with the box while his legs seemed to lose feeling completely. Before he knew it, he felt the hard cobbled street below his right knee.

'What are you doing?' Lily asked, clearly perplexed. He didn't bother answering. His palms were getting clammy and wet again. Fumbling slightly, he opened the box with his right hand.

'Lily, you do know you mean more to me than anything else in the world, don't you? You know I love you more than myself, more than my life, more than anything.'

'Yes,' Lily answered softly.

The ring flashed in the rays of the late afternoon sun, sparkling silver and white.

'Will you marry me?'

Lily couldn't help smiling even while she blushed in surprise.

'Yes,' she said, unable to stop herself from grinning. 'Was this what you wanted to tell me?' she teased.

But she knew the answer even before James said anything: Yes.


End file.
